


Once Upon A Dream

by rustedservos



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tactile, happy to sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9429545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustedservos/pseuds/rustedservos
Summary: Ratchet had been asleep for once, curled up and feeling hollow on his berth. His frame twitched with the deep need to find something to help with this pain. His spark hurt, aching and throbbing in his chestplate, his field tight and constricting against his frame, but he was asleep. His optics burned as his processor whirled, when the soft scuff of a pede from the doorway awoke him ( but, honestly, was he really asleep?).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Songs that Inspired this: Ashe- Stay ( Rhianna Cover) and Once Upon A Dream by Lana Del Ray.

Ratchet had been asleep for once, curled up and feeling hollow on his berth. His frame twitched with the deep need to find something to help with this pain. His spark hurt, aching and throbbing in his chestplate, his field tight and constricting against his frame, but he was asleep. His optics burned as his processor whirled, when the soft scuff of a pede from the doorway awoke him ( but, honestly, was he really asleep?). 

He turned, blinking bleary optics at the white frame hunched and uncertain in his doorway. Drift had frozen, plating flared before slicking down against his frame as his dim blue optics were locked onto Ratchet’s own. 

“Drift?” Ratchet called out softly, breaking the silence with his sleep husked voice. He watched as Drift’s frame sagged in on itself, drawing in and away from Ratchet.

“I apologize. I….” Drift said, optics flicking to the floor before glancing back at the medic, field pulsing with uncertainty and nervousness as he edged further and further back towards the door.

“I will go.” He said, before Ratchet sighed, dragging his aching frame out of the uncomfortable, cold berth and standing before the speedster. His exhaustion drained into his pedes as he reached out, catching Drift by his wrist, his field almost crashing over the both of them, awash with affection and a subtle, thready pulse of need and stay and safe. 

“Can’t sleep either, can you?” Ratchet rumbled, gently tugging the suddenly limp and unresistant Drift towards his frame. The speedster was light on his pedes, optics flicking between the red hand caught around his wrist and the others own washed out optics. His faceplates were drawn as he finally was drawn close enough to accidentally brush against Ratchet’s frame if he wanted. Ratchet released the others wrist, hand twitching with the desire to touch the white swordmech before him. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his faceplates, turning back towards the berth, his back now to Drift as he looked down at the rumpled blanket.

“Ratchet….”Drift whispered, a heat at Ratchet’s back increasing as soft, careful hands wrapped around the others waist cautiously, a faint tremble exposing his inner thoughts. Ratchet gently cupped a hand over the others own, rubbing the others plating with his thumb as his affection turned into something more, a desire to show Drift how much he meant to him. He turned in Drift’s grip, gently holding onto the others plating to keep him there as he maneuvered him towards the berth. 

“Do you trust me, Drift?” He murmured softly, optics brightening as the speedster’s vents picked up, glancing behind him at the berth before looking at the gentle, cautious way the hands on his plating were placed.

“Always.” The other mech breathed softly, optics dimming as Ratchet withdrew his touch.

“I want to show you something.” Ratchet said, gently reaching for Drift again with his field and his hands. His optics were bright and clear as he peered into the others faceplates.

“I need your permission to touch you, Drift. I need to hear you say it.” He said, wanting to make sure that everything was completely consented to. Drift’s smile was soft as it bloomed on the others faceplates, his own field reaching out to tangle gently with the medic’s own, shy hands reaching back out for the others plating.

“Yes, Ratchet, always. Please show me.” He said, a small pulse of curiosity tingling in his field with the awe and admiration for the medic before him.

Ratchet gently laid the other mech on the berth, his field caressing the others plating as much as his hands started to. He gently crawled onto the berth himself, cautious to not touch the others plating and to give him plenty of space, so he didnt feel crowded, forced into this position. His hands trailed softly over the others gleaming plating, a soft sigh of awe that this mech, this beautiful, younger mech, would trust his aching hands to touch him like this.

“So beautiful.” He said softly, optics trailing over the temptation of the speeder in his berth, his spark spinning faster in its casing as his engine rumbled. Drift’s vents hitched at the soft trail, hands reaching for Ratchet’s own plating which he didnt deny, gently nuzzling into the touch on his faceplates. He kissed the others white hands softly, a small pulse of arousal tinging his field before he drew it back, closer to his chestplates. Yes, having Drift this close was arousing, but he wasnt doing this for a quick frag. This was to show his appreciation for the other, for his frame and his company.

“Ratchet….”Drift whispered, and damn if that didnt just spike straight through Ratchet’s spark. His fingers continued their soft trail, reaching into joints he knew were sore from past experience, gently massaging wires and checking lubrication levels, cleaning out grit and grime with a cloth he had pulled from subspace when Drift touched the berth. Drift’s own engine rumbled and whined at the attention, his optics brightening as arousal tinged his own field, tangling deeply with Ratchet’s own. He continued his soft treatment of the others joints, occasionally feathering kisses over the freshly cleaned plating. This was what he had craved, closeness without the draining task of interfacing, the contact without the burning arousal. The others own hands curled and gently tugged, wanting the medic closer to him, to try to wash him in his own affection.

“I want to worship at your altar.” Ratchet rumbled, warmth wrapping through his frame as comfort and a soft sense of companionship was laid over their frames like a blanket. Drift drew Ratchet down over his frame with greedy fingers, drawing him into a soft, unheated kiss. Ratchet optics drifted closed as Drift maneuvered him to lay down beside him, curling closer and enjoying the contact of each others plating brushing against one another. Ratchet’s frame sagged into the others hold, his own arm snaking across the others thinner waste as recharge washed over him like a blanket. He leaned forward to kiss Drift one last time on the forehelm…..

….and awoke alone, clutching onto his blanket as if it was the speedster. Despair washed through his field as he realized his own processor tricked him into thinking Drift was here, into thinking Drift would willingly crawl into his own berth. His hands lifted, crushing into his burning, exhausted optics as his frame seized, field so tight against his palting that he felt as if it should be crushing him. Pain would be a welcome distraction from this empty, hollow, crushing weight in his spark chamber. He muted his vocalizer as his frame jerked with the strength of his silenced sobs, tears dripping down his faceplates before tumbling forward in a steady stream.

This was not his first Drift dream, and would not be his last one.


End file.
